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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28170198">The Mind's Eye is a Wonderful Place</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MxThmxNn/pseuds/MxThmxNn'>MxThmxNn</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Biting, Canon Compliant, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, M/M, Mild Blood, Religious Imagery &amp; Symbolism, Season 3, hannibal lowkey has a god complex but we been knew</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:29:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,381</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28170198</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MxThmxNn/pseuds/MxThmxNn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I totally caved into my hyperfixation and wrote this weird oneshot based in Hannibal's memory palace where he just has a nice talk with his imaginary Will.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>(mentioned) Molly Graham/Will Graham, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Mind's Eye is a Wonderful Place</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Lowkey this is probably really bad because I wrote it in like 2 hours and it's currently 4:54 in the morning as I'm posting this oops.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Vine charcoal touches the fine paper, a sketch materializes itself onto the page. A delicately crafted visage takes form as Doctor Hannibal Lecter finishes his sketch. <em> Will Graham </em>. Normally scalpel-sharpened graphite would suffice for his art but there was something chaotic and dark about the subject that could never be captured with even with 8B lead. (Besides, pencils are a weapon in the hands of the Chesapeake Ripper.) Lecter has an immense disdain for charcoal, the way the fine dust coats his hands unwantedly was unacceptable (in most cases). </p><p> </p><p>Hannibal sighs and relaxes into the uncomfortable chair beneath him to admire his work. The face of his obsession is one he hasn’t seen in at least a year but he gets every detail perfectly. He remembers the striking blue of his eyes and the curve of his lips, the wrinkled collar of his shirt that he doesn’t bother to press on his own. An imperfect beauty. The Doctor thinks very fondly of his time with Will constantly, every calculated move he made to see him evolve into the man he so needed to become. Hannibal clasps his hands together and tips his head back as the cell around him fades and the hall of his mind’s palace appears around him as he meditates. Echoing halls replace the hum of electricity and the scratchy white jumpsuit is easily traded into much finer garments. <em> This was home. </em> </p><p> </p><p>Each step Hannibal takes deeper into his mind, farther into his meditative state, he approaches the doors to a room he particularly enjoys visiting. The cathedral dedicated to Will Graham. He presses on the aged wooden door and steps into the room. Arches and the ceiling look down on Hannibal and the carpet pushes back on his shoes. He walks towards the front and has his seat at the bench as if he were attending a Sunday mass. He observes the familiar podium and figures of Christ that litter the room and he shuts his eyes one more time. </p><p> </p><p>As he does with his art, despite not seeing Will for quite some time, he can still recreate every aspect of him with indescribable perfection. He has stared straight into the soul of Will Graham and created a replica within his mind’s palace. He could have any conversation he wanted with Will, even if he was never actually there. And so, he waited until a familiar presence entered the room with him.</p><p> </p><p>He opens his eyes to see the face of his old friend staring back at him. As far as Hannibal is concerned, Will has strayed rather far from his persona from when they’d first met. A version of Will he’d molded into his image. The former special agent sat across from him on the same bench. His head pressed towards his chest, his posture is more open than it was previously, but still unsure and guarded. </p><p> </p><p>“Will,” Hannibal starts, looking longingly at his mind’s version of Will.</p><p> </p><p>“Doctor Lecter, it’s been a while,” Will’s voice rang sweetly in Hannibal’s ears. He has an nondescript smile on his face. Will scoots closer to the Doctor on the other side of the bench. The two men relax slightly in each other’s presence, both staring at the panes of stained glass that tower behind a cross. </p><p> </p><p>Hannibal’s lips curl into a light smile. He knows this isn’t actually Will, and he’s not actually there, but it was close enough to keep him company. “Quite a striking view, isn’t it?” He starts, reaching his hand towards the glass mural. The faces of saints grace his view and warm everlasting sunlight pours through, scattering colors on the floor. </p><p> </p><p>Will nods and parts his lips to say something but first loses himself in thought. “It certainly is, nothing will ever beat classical architecture,” he responds. </p><p> </p><p>“Quite fascinating indeed. If you do not mind, please tell me how you are, Will,” Lecter requests. After all, he was just looking for comfort and company within his mind. He offers his hand to his companion, to which Will accepts courteously. They shake hands and the feeling of Will’s work-worn and calloused hands linger on Hannibal’s actual palms. The doctor holds onto his hand a little longer, savoring the feeling he’d admittedly missed so much. The connection was not quite human, but sufficient enough. Hannibal pulls the hand closer to his face to inspect it, a glimmering gold wedding band sits on Will’s finger. <em> He was sent the invitation to his wedding after all. </em> Lecter stares intently at it as Will begins to answer, thinking about how that robotic and contrived invitation had been the last time Will Graham had actually written to him. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m doing great. Molly and Walter have been warming up to the dogs at home,” Will explains. He continuously describes the wonderful cover life he’d built for himself in the absence of Hannibal’s physical presence.</p><p> </p><p>Despite all outward judgements, Hannibal was perfectly fine seeing Will bloom into a “normal” life without him. He could wait a lifetime in his cell, waiting for Will Graham to come back and pick up the life he wanted them to leave off on. It was a crucial part of his own design, a plan to eventually witness Will succumb to him. </p><p> </p><p>“I have considered resuming therapy, however, I haven’t found a doctor that’s compatible.”</p><p> </p><p>Those words were a delicate music to strained ears. Hannibal let out an amused laugh and let it ring off the walls. “Another psychiatrist? Well, it is my only wish that you find someone who will care for you as much as I did.”</p><p> </p><p>Will tipped his head back to laugh a little. “Sending someone to kill me was caring, Doctor Lecter?” he asked sarcastically. </p><p> </p><p>“No, not necessarily” Hannibal replied, crossing his legs and twisting his body. “It’s only care if <em> I </em> sent somebody to kill you,” He joked. He watched as the perpetual golden sunlight followed the contours of Will’s face as he thought of a remark. </p><p> </p><p>“So loving, Doctor,” Will finally retorts, mockingly. The playful sarcasm and almost <em> rudeness </em> Will exhibited was almost thrilling to Hannibal. It was astounding, seeing Will treat himself as an equal to Lecter, and to him that almost kept them at the same caliber. Will makes eye contact with Hannibal again, the same haunted blue eyes that reflect off his brown. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, I’d be rather concerned if it were anybody else. I keep everything I do within a controlled environment, it is simply our safest option. I can let you play with danger, but I would never create an irresponsible and irrational environment around you, Will.”</p><p> </p><p>“Playing God.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you see me as God, Will?” Hannibal asks/answers. Both men turn their heads back to the crucifix in front of them. A deep satisfaction burns in Hannibal’s core. He saw no problem with feigning morality and humility around others but around Will, what comes off as arrogance becomes a true superiority. In his mind, he is above everyone, and Will truly sees why. </p><p> </p><p>Will hums as he leans into the wooden backrest once more, head tilted to the ceiling, reminiscent of the Vatican. Hannibal can only imagine what is running through such a complex mind. He assumes it is what his own perception of what he’s been put through over the past few years. All the gore and trauma, a drug induced fever dream that felt like a trip through hell for Will Graham. It was deliciously morbid, the ending painting created with blood tones and dramatic lighting. A bloody and sacrificial path that was carved straight in the palm of Hannibal’s hand. One that he chose all the turns to but everything lead back to and would eventually be ended by Lecter. If that didn’t scream the omnipotent and all powerful, than nothing else does. </p><p> </p><p>Just like if this had taken place back in his office, Hannibal sat to watch Will think, to see every gear in his head, every catch in his mind’s stream, everything about his perfectly broken mind work to form a conclusion. He sat still with a neutral expression on his face but his eyes were already devouring every ounce of Will’s being. </p><p> </p><p>“Well, Doctor, I suppose I could.” Once again, music to the Ripper’s ears. “But I am not much of a religious man, now am I? Doctor Lecter.” Will shifts around on the bench, pressing his shoulder into Hannibal’s. The blazer he wore over a flannel button up creasing distinctly with contact. Hannibal is taken aback by his beauty, he always knew that Will fit his aesthetic quotas, but especially now, he cleaned up rather nicely these days. He still reeked of dog, motor oil and that god-forsaken aftershave, but that was just a scent Lecter has come to accept as distinctly Will Graham. But he was pretty none the less, slowly adapting a more refined style as he and Hannibal blurred. This was exactly what Hannibal wanted, the most perfect human he could ever imagine falling and blending into his image. </p><p> </p><p>Not eating anything of his <em> standard quality </em> coupled with this recent visit to Will’s portion of his mind has suddenly left Hannibal insatiably hungry. He furrowed his brow and let the scent of his former patient wash over him. The proximity was maddening.</p><p> </p><p>“Forgive me Will,” Lecter breathes. He takes one of Will’s hands in his own, the one with the ring. A half-assed promise to Molly. “Normally I would not be as selfish as I am now,” He explains one more time. Of course in his own imagination he could really be as selfish as he wanted, but he wanted the authentic feeling of being with Will. </p><p> </p><p>The empath saw straight through Hannibal, as transparent as his kill suit. “I think it is too late for you to be remotely altruistic,” Will answered, trying not to be nervous as Hannibal scrutinized his left hand so intensely. His stare might as well have been burning holes into his skin. </p><p> </p><p>The Doctor’s lip quirked up into a symmetrical smile, a dark one. He pulled Will’s hand to his face, laying it onto his cheek; he watched as his former patient’s face begin to flush with embarrassment. “Tell me, am I doing something inappropriate?” That question was only to illicit another response from the other man. Hannibal already knew that Will would find this gesture off as a married man on the surface, but in the recesses of his mind, this is also something he wanted. </p><p> </p><p>Will’s eyebrows began knitting together. “Well it is, considering we are-”</p><p> </p><p>“Doctor/Patient?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.”</p><p> </p><p>Hannibal turned his face into the palm of Will’s hand, cupped by his own. The edge of his mouth barely scathing his skin. “This isn’t a therapy session, Will.” The doctor then turned his face fully into Will’s hand, kissing at the center of his palm.</p><p> </p><p>Will began panicking, his eyes jumping back and forth trying to find his words. He was obviously flustered. His cheeks reddened and his breathing quickened as a bead of sweat traced its way down his cheek. The former special agent felt a Hannibal smile into his hand, placing another kiss. “I suppose,” he staggered out, embarrassed.</p><p> </p><p>Doctor Lecter removed Will’s hand from his cheek, still holding it firmly by his face with his other hand. “Is it because you’re married? Are you afraid of infidelity?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why?”</p><p> </p><p>Hannibal watched will struggle to answer his question with contentment. He believed that he has struck gold, at the core of Will’s true desires to be consumed by him, both in a physical and metaphorical sense. That as much as he tried to cover and escape Lecter, he is still engulfed by his presence, and haunted by his name. The course of his very life was dependent on Hannibal alone. </p><p> </p><p>It became too much. The immense feeling of love and bloodlust for Will Graham washed over Hannibal. He suddenly positioned Will’s hand in a delicate pose, his own still cradling under his fingers. He pressed a final kiss between the tendons of Will’s index and middle finger before pulling his thumb to the side. The skin between his fingers tightened and Hannibal placed himself in the space. He watched as a mortified expression had made its way onto Will’s face. He admired this expression for a brief moment.</p><p> </p><p>And he bit. Will let out a silenced noise, his face now cupped with his free hand to resist screaming from pain. The adrenaline from Lecter’s previous more romantic acts had numbed his nerves enough for it to be bearable. Hannibal bit straight down into the webbing of Will’s fingers and drew blood. He lingered there long enough for the warmth to coat his lips and fill the front of his mouth. The satisfying metallic flavor quelled his hunger, even if it was just imaginary. Hannibal pulled away again to revel in the moment. </p><p> </p><p>“See why I asked for forgiveness, If I were to do anything of this nature again, I would certainly not do it in such a crude manner. It was rather impulsive of me.” The doctor explained, carefully licking Will’s blood off his lips. He attempted to make direct eye contact with Will again. The other man had curled into himself in agony, but his pale blue eyes began to become eclipsed by his pupils. “And in a cathedral none the less,” Hannibal continued, eyeing the paintings of saints and cherubs that loomed over his head. Red blood began to drip down into the velvet cushion of the bench the two sat on. </p><p> </p><p>“<em> Shit </em> ,” Will breathed raggedly, the pain starting to set in. He probably had something else to say but his mind was so clouded with shock or perhaps <em> enjoyment. </em>He watched as Lecter lowered his head again for another taste and got dragged into the pool of hellish desire Hannibal was currently swimming in-</p><p> </p><p>This was becoming too euphoric, too much for even Hannibal’s tolerance. He stopped sucking on mind palace Will’s bleeding hand and whispered a farewell to him. The prisoner opened his eyes once again, letting the Palace around him dissolve back into the cell he was confined in. He looked down at his latest portrait and gave the stoic face a smile.</p><p> </p><p>“Until we meet again, Will Graham.”</p><p><br/>
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